


Anyway the Wind Blows

by Literallyliterary



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aberforth/Augusta, Alcohol, Courtship, Dancing, F/M, Firewhiskey (Harry Potter), Getting Together, Gift Fic, Happy Ending, Neville/Hannah - Freeform, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22410706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literallyliterary/pseuds/Literallyliterary
Summary: Augusta Longbottom is far too busy planning her grandson’s wedding to be distracted by a pair of beautiful blue eyes. Especially when those blue eyes belong to a man she had never looked at twice. But someone who wants to see them together is up to some tricks, and Augusta might learn that she simply can’t control everything.
Relationships: Aberforth Dumbledore/Augusta Longbottom
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Anyway the Wind Blows

**Author's Note:**

> This is my (very late) holiday gift to Roxana! Merry merry and a happy new year and all that good stuff. Thank you for your friendship and the sing-alongs and tea parties and your good good twitter jokes. Thank you for that time we saw Billie Piper together in New York. I adore you. Stop writing so fast, you make us all look lame in comparison to your awesomeness. Your little sister told me that you’d get a kick out of Augusta being courted, so here you go.

Augusta Longbottom had hung up her vulture hat a long time ago when it had scared one too many of her friends’ great-grandchildren, but she found herself wishing that she had the intimidating garment the day she entered the Hog’s Head and faced down a grubby bartender with a filthy apron, a too-long beard, and the audacity to stare at her with a wide open mouth.

“I asked for a firewhiskey, sir, and if you can’t manage to shut that mouth and do one simple thing for me, I shall have to take my business elsewhere, no matter what Minerva McGonagall recommends.”

“Augusta?”

She blinked. Did she know the man? Surely not, she would remember meeting such a-

Oh.

“Aberforth Dumbledore, as I live and breathe. I hardly recognized you under all that beard and dirt. Is this where you’ve been hiding all these years?”

“Since before the last time I saw you even,” the man grumbled as he took down a glass, spelled it clean, then poured a generous portion of whiskey for her, “ Which was what, forty years ago? Been here since before the wars, and I’ll be here until the day I go to meet my brother in hell, I assume.”

“Now that you mention it, my grandson did mention getting your help in and out of the castle while all _that_ was going on,” she waved her hand dismissively, “I suppose I should thank you.”

Aberforth let out a great booming laugh and Augusta lifted an eyebrow, “Only you would refer to the occupation of Hogwarts as ‘all that,’ you great battleax.”

Augusta chuckled, then took a sip of her firewhiskey. It burned all the way down and warmed her to her very core, “You sure know how to pour a firewhiskey, I’ll say that much. Must have been all those years hiding out in this place.”

“Not much to do around here. Mostly keep the youth out and toss drunkards into the Floo. Your grandson comes down from the castle from time to time for a chat. Good lad.”

Augusta swelled with pride, “He’s come up to be a great man. Can’t take too much credit for it, much as I’d like to. He was a bit of a late bloomer, but he always knows when to step up.”

Aberforth nodded and started wiping down the bar in front of her, which she suspected hadn’t been wiped down in many a year, “Heard he’s getting married.”

“Yes to a young lady named Hannah Abbott, rest her soul. Sweet girl, but a bit too… _Hufflepuff_ for my liking.”

“I’m sure you’ve scared away many a Hufflepuff in your day, Augusta. What’s different about this one?”

She huffed, but thought about it for a moment. Her grandson’s fiancée was a quiet girl, but she was very thoughtful. Neville was absolutely enamored of her, and Augusta had to admit she was quite pretty. She shrugged, “I suppose if Neville wants to marry her I must allow that she is very tolerable.”

Aberforth laughed again, a deep rumble of a laugh that resonated in her chest, “A high compliment indeed coming from the Lady Longbottom herself. Another?”

She looked down at the glass in her hand and noticed it was empty, “I guess one more wouldn’t hurt. It’s very cold outside.”

“This will warm you right up.”

It was with those words that Augusta felt something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. It was such an alien feeling that she didn’t recognize it at first. The slow, swooping feeling low in the pit of her stomach could only be described as

Attraction.

Oh Merlin.

He was indeed attractive under all the grime and grit of his work. Through the mess of a beard on his face his eyes shone a brilliant blue and his smile was wide and easy. He was tall and surprisingly muscular for a man his age, with powerful arms and a barrel chest. He smirked at her as he passed her second glass of firewhiskey toward her and she raised an eyebrow back. She raised her glass to him.

“To your health, Aberforth.”

He nodded, then went back to wiping down the bar. He seemed to be avoiding making eye contact with her for too long, which Augusta found rude. And disheartening.

The bell over the door rang and an old man walked in and took a seat at the bar down from her, ordering a glass of mulled wine as he did so. She took another long sip of her firewhiskey and soon Aberforth was back.

“So what brings you up my way? I mean, this way. What bring you up this way?” he stumbled.

“I was visiting my grandson and Minerva, we took tea. In fact,” she dug through her purse, the trusty red handbag she had carried for so many years and pulled out an envelope, “Minerva didn’t just recommend having a drink here, she wanted me to deliver this to you. She told me it was for the proprietor of this establishment, she didn’t mention that it was you.”

Aberforth took the envelope from her and opened it, scanning the letter quickly, “It’s an order for some of my mulled wine for the staff Christmas party. She usually owls this to me,” he cocked his head to the side and fixed her with a penetrating gaze and aggressively asked, “Why would she send it down with you?”

She sat straighter, taken aback, “I haven’t the faintest idea, especially given how rude you are while accepting it from me.”

“Apologies, Augusta.” But she wasn’t having it. It had been too strange of an encounter, going up and down in mere moments, and she had quite enough.

“I must get going. It was nice catching up, Aberforth. Enjoy your pub.”

And leaving two sickles at her seat she swept toward the door, not stopping to turn and see the shock and disappointment on the man’s face.

Why had Minerva told her to go down there in the first place? She could have easily gone to another establishment for a drink, and Minerva could have posted the order from the castle. Honestly, the whole afternoon was just a disaster.

-

Augusta rubbed her temples in frustration, willing herself not to curse the horrendously boring young woman sitting in front of her. She, her grandson, and her grandson’s fiancée had taken to meeting up every other week to discuss wedding plans. Given that she was paying for the entire affair she wanted to make sure she was involved, but these group planning sessions had quickly devolved into _her_ doing all the planning, as Neville and Hannah both couldn’t seem to commit to one single detail of the rapidly approaching day.

“I love roses, don’t you dear?”

“I do, I also love lilies.”

“I do so love lilies, do you want lilies on the centerpieces?”

“Whatever you like, my love. I’m happy with anything so long as I get to marry you.”

“Both choices are so beautiful, I don’t think I could ever choose.”

“ROSES.” Augusta finally choked out, “Just go with roses. Classic, simple, elegant, proper. Done. Next item on the list is deciding which of the cakes you sampled last week you like best. We need to confirm with the bakery.”

“Oh I liked the red velvet.”

“I did as well, my dear. I also liked the chocolate.”

“As did I!”

“CHOCOLATE IT IS.” Augusta snapped, and the two young lovers looked at her with shock, “If I have to sit here and hear you two blather on and never make any decisions for yourselves, I’m going to end up dying of old age before the big day.”

Hannah looked scandalized, then genuinely concerned, “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Longbottom.”

“Don’t be sorry, just grow a backbone, girl.” Augusta got to her feet and stretched her bad hip, “Take a look at that guest list there and tell me if anyone is missing.”

They bent over the list and scanned it carefully and Augusta rolled her head from side to side, relishing in the feeling of her neck popping and releasing tension in her shoulders. She wasn’t a young woman anymore, her hair now entirely grey with no trace of the dark blonde it once was. She walked with a slight limp that grew more pronounced and painful every year, and though she had maintained most of her height as she aged, her long dresses didn’t quite fit the same as they once had. She was getting old.

“It looks good, Gran. There’s just one more name I want to add.”

Augusta pulled out a quill and sat back down, “Who?”

“Old Aberforth.”

The name made her chest ache inexplicably and she pursed her lips, “Why him?”

“We’ve a long history, Gran. He saved my life a dozen times over. He deserves an invitation.”

She sighed, “Fine, invite the man.” She scribbled his name at the bottom of the list, and Neville beamed.

“Excellent. He’s a good bloke.”

Augusta bit her tongue, not wanting to upset her grandson. A “good bloke” he may be to Neville, but to her he was a grumpy, dirty old man with no manners.

And eyes like beautiful pools of icy water.

She shook her head as if to rid her mind of the thought altogether. She was a grown woman for Merlin’s sake. With a son of her own, and a grandson about to be married. There was no reason to titter like a schoolgirl just because of some man, especially one with no social skills and an embarrassing inability to maintain eye contact.

“I trust that you two can manage to address and send out all of these invitations?”

“Yes, Gran. We can handle it. Why don’t you go and rest?”

“I’ll rest when this ridiculous wedding is behind me,” she muttered to herself, but took her grandson’s advice and went to get some rest.

Why did that infernal boy insist on inviting Aberforth? The insufferable man would show up to the event of the year in his dirty boots and that wicked grin and those blue eyes-

Enough. She needed to get her head on straight. She could think about this another time. For all she knew, he could decline the invitation altogether. He had been a bit of a recluse for many years, maybe he wouldn’t go to the wedding after all.

The thought cheered and bothered her equally, so she shoved him out of her mind and went to work composing letters asking for pricing quotes on any Wizarding band willing to perform at Neville’s wedding. She would have live music there if it killed her. She would never be so gauche as to have prerecorded music after all.

-

Augusta was so distracted and up to her elbows in responses to the wedding invitations that she almost didn’t hear the bell ring at her front door. She cursed under her breath and extracted herself from the mountain of parchment on her writing desk and made for the door. Her small house in Leeds had become a hurricane of wedding planning nonsense, and she nearly slipped on a brochure for yet another professional wedding photographer as she made her way to the door.

“What do you want?” she scowled as she threw the door open.

“Is that how you greet all visitors, Augusta?”

It was Aberforth Dumbledore, the very last person she expected to ring her bell. She was so surprised that she stood for many long seconds with her mouth open, just gaping at him.

“You alright, Augusta?”

She shook her head, “Aberforth, what are you doing here?”

He shifted from one foot to the other, looking suddenly nervous, “I, er… I wanted to deliver this to you.”

He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a rumpled piece of parchment. Upon further inspection, she realized that it was his response to the wedding invitation.

“You do understand sir, that you’re supposed to mail this to me, don’t you?”

“Well I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d just drop by.”

“You were in the neighborhood.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes I was.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, “You were in Leeds.”

“Indeed I was.” He shifted his weight again and ran a large hand through his hair.

“Aberforth, you live in Scotland for Merlin’s sake!”

He at least had the decency to look sheepishly at his feet. Augusta took a deep breath, summoned all her patience and fortitude, and politely asked him in for a cup of tea.

He shook his head, “No, that’s quite alright. I had better get going. It was…it was nice seeing you again Augusta.”

He spun on his heel and strode quickly down the walk. Augusta felt a pang of loss shoot through her heart as she watched him leave.

“Aberforth!” she called out. He stopped but didn’t turn to face her, “Are you coming to my grandson’s wedding?”

At that, he turned and smiled at her over his shoulder. His smile warmed his face considerably, his gorgeous blue eyes crinkled attractively at the corners and her eyes were drawn to his mouth. He had trimmed and combed his beard, she suddenly realized, and it suited him quite nicely.

“You’ll have to read my note to find out.” With that cryptic response he Apparated away with a loud crack, leaving Augusta flushed and confused, the letter crushed in her clammy hand.

She opened the envelope and took out the RSVP card tucked inside. He had marked the “Attending” box and declined bringing a “plus one.” Augusta ignored the elation that unfairly rushed through her and read the message he had left in his surprisingly elegant script.

_“I will be attending the wedding on the condition that I am promised one (1) dance with the grandmother of the groom. And I promise to wash up beforehand.”_

Augusta rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the grin that spread across her face. He was gutsy, she had to give him that.

-

August had to admit, the wedding was a smashing success. The ceremony went off without a hitch, and soon enough she found herself swept up in the romance of it all as she watched Neville and Hannah dance their first dance as husband and wife. Her grandson was grinning from ear to ear as he occasionally looked down to make sure he wasn’t stepping on his wife’s feet, and Hannah had sparkling tears in her eyes as the music swelled and Neville kissed her. The crowd sighed and applauded, well plied with wine and the best food money could buy.

As the first song came to a close, Neville turned to invite everyone else onto the dance floor with them. Augusta put a hand to her heart and sank to her seat. She was so proud of her grandson, who she had watched grow from a bumbling, shy boy to a strong, confident wizard. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t’ notice someone come to sit beside her at the table until his voice broke through her reverie.

“Great party, Lady Longbottom.”

She started, then pursed her lips when she saw who it was, “Aberforth. Good of you to join us.”

“Glad to be here,” he paused, taking a sip of his wine, “Did you put any thought into the note I left you?”

“What is your game, Aberforth? What are you trying to pull?”

“Not trying to pull anything, Augusta. Ever since you walked into my pub I’ve been thinking about you. You’re fiery, interesting, and funny as all hell. And it was brought to my attention that I’ve been rather stubborn about my solitude, as I suspect you have as well.”

“Who told you about that?”

“Minerva may have mentioned something, when I talked to her after our… unfortunate conversation at my pub.”

Augusta swung her head around to glare at Minerva McGonagall, who was doing a wonderful job of pretending that she wasn’t eavesdropping from three tables over.

-

“Honestly Minerva, I don’t know how you do it,” Augusta took a long sip of her tea, “I would have lost my mind years ago if I had to teach a castle full of whinging, self-absorbed children all year long.”

Minerva laughed, “Well that’s why I’m a teacher and you’re not. It’s not as bad as you make it sound. I never do get lonely or bored. I don’t know how you stand to live alone, if I’m perfectly honest.”

Augusta took a biscuit from the pile that Minerva had set out for the two of them, “It wasn’t so lonely when Neville would make it home for holidays, but I suspect I’m going to see him a lot less now that he’s engaged.” She got to her feet and pulled on her cloak, “I should get going.”

Minerva hummed and her brow furrowed, “Can I ask a favor of you, Augusta? Can you run a letter down to the Hog’s Head pub for me?”

“The Hog’s Head? I’ve never been in there.”

Minerva was shuffling through some parchment, then scribbled a note and handed it to Augusta, “Get some firewhiskey while you’re there. The bartender is a friend. You won’t regret it.”

-

Something clicked in Augusta’s head and she laughed. Aberforth looked at her with an eyebrow raised.

“I’ll have that dance now, Aberforth.”


End file.
